


You're a Mean One, Tsukishima

by darkwing7174



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi is so done, Angst, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou are Bros, Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, Budding Love, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas is a Journey of Self-Discovery, Fluff and Angst, Kuroo is a secret cinnamon roll, M/M, Pine Sap, Should totally be a new tag meaning 'Christmas Sap', Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, Tsukishima is Not the Grinch, Ukai is hot, do not underestimate my rarepair game, he's just bad at feelings, implied Yachi/Koganegawa, sap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 00:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9046901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkwing7174/pseuds/darkwing7174
Summary: “Whoa! Tsukki. You’re the real-life Grinch!”“Excuse me? I am not—what are you doing?” Bokuto was crouched down and had his hand clutched around Kei’s ankle.“Checking to see if your shoes are too tight.”“For the love of—Keiji, get your stupid boyfriend off me before I kick him in his dumb face.”“I guess that proves that your heart’s a couple sizes too small.”





	1. Chapter 1

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about something as important as this, Tsukki?”

Kei ignored Kuroo’s sloe-dark gaze – he would _not_ fall prey to that teasing leer; it would take more than that to provoke him – in favor of scrunching his face into a sneer. “And by ‘important’ I assume you’re referring to this over-commercialized, bastardized, and appropriated version of a ‘holy day’ that idiots around the world call ‘Christmas.’”

“Easy on the air quotes, babe, it almost sounds like you don’t care about Christmas.”

“I don’t.”

And really, he didn’t. Kei rolled his eyes as his boyfriend proceeded to gasp and clutch at his chest and act with appalling similarity to the eighty-seven year old woman that Kuroo truly was at heart. Christmas was a piss-poor excuse for a holiday, in his opinion. Christmas was the epitome of posturing and false cheer and obligation in the name of a breaking-and-entering fat man and a squalling baby born in a barn. Kei just didn’t get it. Lying to your children, spending a required lump-sum of your earnings in order to _prove_ your love to every significant and insignificant person in your life, filling your home to the brim with sticky, flammable, or sharp-cornered objects…

“Whoa, whoa,” Kuroo was saying. “All I suggested was decorating a Christmas tree together. We don’t even need to call it a Christmas tree. Yuletide arbor. Ye Olde Pine. Bokuto told me about a place that has super cheap trees even this late on Christmas Eve, and well...we _do_ need something to put the gifts under.” He finished this off with the barest hint of a smile – not a smirk or a leer or that full Chesire-cat grin, but a real smile – so Kei was almost inclined to keep his mouth shut because it was so rare that Kuroo just _smiled_ in that stupidly handsome way of his that didn’t make Kei want to punch his mouth. Almost.

“I don’t have any gifts to put under a tree,” he said instead. Deadpan. Kei wasn’t the kind of person to sweeten his words in favor of the truth. Kuroo knew this. But for some reason, Kuroo didn’t chuckle or snark back or kiss the corner of Kei’s scowl because _you’re so adorable when you pretend to be mean, Tsukki_ . Instead, Kuroo looked completely blank. A little slack-jawed. Innocent, and _young_ -looking in a way that Kei wasn’t comfortable with. “Oi…” he started.

“Oh.” Kuroo blinked. Then, falsely bright: “Oh! Well! That’s fine. I mean, I don’t have any gifts...either, heh. I mean, we’ve only been living together two months, and we’ve only gone out for nine months and two weeks and four days, we haven’t even had our anniversary yet so obviously we wouldn’t exchange gifts before that, on a holiday you don’t really care about.” Kei could only stare, feeling a little helpless, as Kuroo blinked about eighteen times in four seconds.

“Well, that’s good—”

“I should just—”

They both stopped. Kei was frowning and Kuroo was grinning, which wasn’t in general an unusual occurrence, but for some reason it was _off_ and Kei didn’t like it, but what was he supposed to say?

“Listen…” he tried again.

“I’m gonna go.” Kuroo swept his leather jacket over his shoulders, still grinning in that too-many-teeth way. “I’ll pick us up some food.” Grabbed his keys, a wallet, a giant scarf.

“Kuroo,” Kei said. It was 10 PM after all, and they’d already eaten. But Kuroo was walking towards the door. “Kuroo—”

“Bye!” A little high-pitched, Kuroo’s voice was nonetheless kurt and empty. Almost cold. Their apartment door clicked shut.

Kei heaved a sigh. “See ya.”

 

* * *

 

“Knock, knock,” Kei drawled, twisting his neighbor’s doorknob open. “I’m now entering your apartment, so if either of you are in any state of undress or compromised position, kindly whistle or signal or otherwise put out my eyes so that I might retain what’s left of my virtue.”

Kei heard Akaashi snort from in the kitchen and Bokuto stage-whisper _should we whistle?_

“You’re fine, Kei,” Akaashi called, although Kei clearly heard the sounds of clothing being adjusted. “And I wasn’t aware you still had any virtue left to taint.”

“It’s a paltry amount,” Kei responded as he made his way down the narrow hall to the kitchen. As he suspected, both Akaashi and Bokuto were flushed and the collars of their shirts were mussed. A reddish bruise was forming high on Bokuto’s jaw. “But it’s enough that I can still look my mother in the eye without shame.”

“ _Laaame_.” Bokuto stuck his tongue out at him. Kei raised his eyebrow, but then Bokuto continued. “Kuroo’s slacking if you still consider yourself virtuous after how long you all have been going out.

Kei winced involuntarily. Akaashi, of course, picked up on this. “Did something happen between you two?”

Bokuto gasped. “Did Tetsu finally give you the D?” Akaashi smacked him on the chest, something that Bokuto clearly didn’t consider punishment due to the way he waggled his eyebrows.

“No, and none of your business,” Kei sighed. “Kuroo is just acting funny.”

“Like ha-ha funny?”

“ _Strange_ funny. He just took off out of nowhere. Doing his weird scheming captain smile. Except he didn’t look like he was scheming, he looked like….” Kei stopped. _He looked like he was going to cry._

“Like he was constipated?” Bokuto asked, dead serious. “Sometimes I leave real quick without any explanation when that happens. It always confuses Akaashi.”

“Well, not anymore,” Akaashi muttered. “Anyway, you said Kuroo just left? Without saying anything? That doesn’t sound like him.”

Akaashi, Bokuto, Kuroo and Kei had all met in high school when Kei transferred there in his third year and he had joined the school volleyball team. Akaashi and Bokuto had been high school sweethearts, but Kuroo and Kei hadn’t gotten together until just the past year at university. It may have been Bokuto who was childhood buddies with Kuroo, but Akaashi had known him almost as long and could definitely speak on the matter of what was and wasn’t normal for their inscrutable former volleyball captain.

“Well he said he was going to pick us up some dinner, but he just left so suddenly. And he seemed so upset about getting a Christmas tree for some reason.”

Bokuto piped in. “Oh, did he not like the one he got at Sakanoshita? He told me he was heading there after practice.” Both Bokuto and Kuroo still played division volleyball together at university.

“What? No.” Kei frowned. “No there wasn’t a tree. I don’t want a tree. I told him I didn’t have any gifts for him to put under it anyway.”

Bokuto and Akaashi stared at him.

“You don’t have any gifts for him?” Akaashi asked. His eyes were bulging in that same disturbed way they got when witnessing Bokuto eat his squat-lift weight in barbecue.

“On _Christmas_?” Bokuto added, anguished.

“I thought we were just going to exchange little gifts on New Years like we always do.”

“But!” Surprisingly it was Akaashi who was losing his composure. “But this is your first Christmas together. You know, _together._ I thought you guys were going to do something special this year.”

“What’s so special about Christmas?”

Again, a too-long pause and too much staring.

“Oh my God, Kei…” Akaashi pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Whoa! Tsukki. You’re the real-life Grinch!”

“Excuse me? I am _not_ —what are you doing?” Bokuto was crouched down and had his hand clutched around Kei’s ankle.

“Checking to see if your shoes are too tight.”

“For the love of—Keiji, get your stupid boyfriend off me before I kick him in his dumb face.”

“I guess that proves that your heart’s a couple sizes too small.”

Kei grit his teeth together in order to prevent the venomous retort ready on his tongue from escaping, which, it had to be acknowledged, would not help in his case as someone who was Not-The-Grinch. “Look,” he said instead. “Kuroo knows that I don’t buy into any of that obligatory shit. I just don’t _do_ Christmas. That doesn’t make me the Grinch or the Scrooge or whoever.”

“Christmas isn’t about obligation,” Akaashi said as Bokuto pointed out that Kei’s glasses _totally_ made him look like the Scrooge. “Christmas is about an opportunity. A priceless occasion where families and friends and loved ones can all take a moment to appreciate each other and all that they have, set in a backdrop of wintry flakes and fireside cuddling and gingerbread hot chocolate.” Akaashi was poking a severe finger into Kei’s chest, emphatic. “Christmas is fucking _lovely_. Especially when your family doesn’t suck, and your friends are awesome, and your boyfriend is crazy about you.”

“But—”

“Shush. Koutarou, go get the mitten box.”

“Aye, aye, babe.”

“What the hell? Mitten box?” But Akaashi was clearly done listening to whatever Kei had to say for himself, and disappeared down the hall to the bedroom while Bokuto rustled in the storage closet for the ominous ‘mitten box.’

Kei stood in the middle of the kitchen, feeling like the only man in the universe immune to the maddening effects of Christmas. So maybe he _should_ have gotten Kuroo something for Christmas, except it always seemed like Kuroo was perfectly happy with the way Kei was—which was a person thoroughly disenchanted with the idea of romanticism and formalities.

Kuroo had always been fine with the fact that Kei had wanted to take their relationship slowly, fine when Kei decided that it just made more sense to live together when the lease on his old apartment was up, fine that Kei only ever called him ‘Kuroo’ even though they had known each other for two years and had been together for almost half that time. Kuroo _knew_ that Kei liked him, loved spending time with him, was stupidly attracted to him without Kei needing to spell it out for him. It was one of the things Kei liked most about Kuroo.

But the look on Kuroo’s face when Kei had told him he didn’t have any presents for him on Christmas, that he didn’t care about Christmas at all, wasn’t the look of a man who was _fine_ with it. Wasn’t the look of someone who was perfectly happy.

“Does he…” Kei whispered to himself, alone in a kitchen. “Does he not know that I care about _him_ even if I don’t care about this stupid holiday?”

“Tetsu might be a smart dude, but he’s not immune to having doubts.” Bokuto said from the doorway, startling Kei. He had on an uncharacteristic solemn expression, somewhat at odds with the reindeer antler headband holding back his hair and the enormous glittery-green box in his grip. “He’s always been good at reading people, but he’s only confident about it because he gets confirmation. It’s like….he’s read-blocking you, except even if you’re where he expects you to be, the ball never hits his hand. So he thinks his read is wrong, even if it’s not.”

Kei could only gape at Bokuto as Akaashi strode back into the kitchen bearing what appeared to be a mass of ornaments and tinsel sewn onto a single sweater.

“What I believe Kou is trying to say, is that even though Kuroo might know deep down that you care about him, it’s not enough to simply assume your feelings for one another. There needs to be communication, validation.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Kei sneered. He always turned to sarcasm when he felt cornered. Akaashi frowned.

“Kei, do you love Kuroo?”

Kei flushed crimson with embarrassing swiftness. His brow came down and his lip curled up and he had to stop the tide of snark and vitriol that threatened to bubble up his throat. Why was he so defensive? Why was he _mortified_ at the notion of admitting to his best friends that he had genuine feelings for his boyfriend?

Of course he had genuine feelings for Kuroo. From the moment they’d met, Kuroo had been able to read Kei in a way that no one, not even his brother, not even his childhood friend Yamaguchi, had been able to. Not only could he read Kei, Kuroo could challenge him, rile him, provoke him until Kei felt not only absolutely murderous, but absolutely invested in his surroundings. Only Kuroo could make Kei really _care_ about the people and things around him, make the air sing with possibility and make his days feel legitimately interesting. Kuroo didn’t let Kei just brush off life as some sort of casual nuisance, losing himself in the music on his headphones and detaching from the world around him. Kuroo pulled him out of his comfort zone, exposed him to fear and excitement and anticipation and…opportunity.

_Christmas isn’t about obligation. Christmas is about an opportunity._

Kuroo, Kei realized, made his life bright, and sharp, and edged with promise. Kuroo made his life beautiful, and he asked for nothing in return.

“I do,” he murmured, voice hoarse. His eyes were trained on the tiles, his too-tight shoes. “I do love him.”

Akaashi’s voice was soft, but insistent. “And have you ever told him that?”

Kei stared at the tile and remained silent, because they all already knew.

For all that his heart was evidently a few sizes too small, it sat like lead in his chest. His silent phone hung heavy in his pocket. His empty apartment seemed like a black hole across the hallway. Kei stifled the urge to pull on headphones that weren’t there, to mask his shame with an indifferent sneer. He looked up from the tile. Akaashi and Bokuto were looking back at him, nonjudgmental, but frank.

“I fucked up,” Kei said. They nodded. “I’ve been fucking up.” His breath was coming faster. His glasses fogged at the edges, his face hot. “What if he doesn’t come back? What if that was my last chance to get my head out of my ass and I completely failed? What if I lose him—” His voice cracked.

“Kei, calm down, you can fix it.” Akaashi had a hand on his shoulder.

“No, it’s too late. I’d need a wormhole or a time machine.” Oh god. Those were _not_ tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. His vision blurred. He tucked his head into his chest, his only way of hiding his face as tall as he was.

Suddenly a tangle of wool and tinsel was thrown over his head, knocking his glasses askew. His arms were tugged mercilessly through the sleeves of some sort of sparkly, bauble-bedecked, ugly-as-original-sin Christmas sweater. Reindeer antlers were thrust on his head, a scarf with red and gold pom-poms wrapped around his neck. A giant hand was clapping him too-hard on the other shoulder.

“Nope!” Bokuto was saying, looking mischievous as an elf. “All you need is a Christmas miracle.” He put thick mittens over Kei’s hands as if bestowing a blessing. Akaashi handed Kei a gift card.

“What Koutarou is trying to say is that what you need to fix this is a grand gesture, and what better opportunity than embracing some of the holiday spirit?” Akaashi tossed him his own impish grin and steered him towards their apartment door.

“Wait—” Kei said, still sniffling.

“Don’t worry about any expense. That’s a gift card I was going to give you for New Years anyway. It works for most stores in this area, including Sakanoshita. Now go!”

They pushed him, trailing tinsel, out of their door. Kei looked towards the door to his own apartment, not quite able to quash the longing to just hide away, safe in routine.

Then he looked down at the disaster that he was wearing, and couldn’t help the wry grin that twisted his lips for a moment as he caught his reflection in one of the sewn-on ornaments and saw the antlers perched on his head, stretching his height to absurd proportions.

_Kuroo would love this._

He looked at the time on his phone. 11:15. No texts from Kuroo. Kei squared his shoulders and turned away from his apartment door. He was armed with a gift card, a recent paycheck, Santa-emblazoned mittens, and forty-five minutes to prove to his boyfriend that he wasn’t the Grinch, and that he in fact was desperately in love with him.

And then he marched off to create his own Christmas miracle.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t until Kei walked into Sakanoshita, the giant, offbeat  _ konbini  _ a few blocks from their apartment that employed old-school shop clerks, that he realized he had no earthly notion of what a proper Christmas consisted of. He had a few memories from when he was a kid—before he’d moved to Tokyo for school and lived on his own. Memories of eating Chinese mooncakes with his brother on the longest day of the year, his mother running him a bath with  _ yuzu _ fruit, Tadashi singing Christmas carols on their walks to primary school. 

But nothing consisting of glitter and glass balls and this itchy, spangly crap called  _ tinsel _ . If Bokuto and Akaashi had meant his current attire as some form of guideline or waypoint for his endeavor into ‘holiday spirit,’ then Kei thought that maybe he’d rather be lost. 

Just then, the automatic sliding doors caught his scarf behind him. As the red and gold pom-poms constricted around his neck, Kei could practically see Keiji’s threatening glare and the words FIX IT whispered across the frosty air. 

“Welcome, sir! How may we serve you?”

Kei glanced down, feeling chastised as he loosened his scarf. And then glanced down some more. A sprightly little thing with a blond bob and one pigtail was beaming up at him. She was decked out a little too convincingly as an elf; Kei couldn’t decide which part of her outfit was more overwhelming, but it was probably the pointy, bell-topped boots that  _ ring-ting-tingled  _ with every step. 

Kei took a bracing inhale.  _ Kuroo is worth it _ .

“I need...help.”

Another high-wattage smile. “Of course! What are you looking for?”

“Christmas.”

To her credit, the store clerk only blinked a couple of times at him before nodding (like his request was perfectly normal) and said, “Sure thing! Let’s start in the decoration aisle. We have a whole winter display! I’m Yachi, by the way.”

Kei was trying to remember from various holiday lore whether or not elves were contractually obligated to rhyme their words as they entered the bowels of the Sakanoshita Winter Department.

Kei’s first impression: Akaashi and Bokuto were  _ such _ liars. They’d draped him in all sorts of Christmas colors, but at least those colors followed a certain theme. 

“I thought Christmas was just supposed to be red, green, gold, and sparkle?” Kei asked Yachi, thinking, for some insane reason, that she’d actually be helpful.

“Aw! You consider ‘sparkle’ a color? I love that!”

Kei would have retorted with something, but he was too busy suffering from sensory overload. 

Christmas lights were hanging across all the aisle tops and entrances, and twisted around every wall, pole, or fixture - yellow lights and red lights and purple and blue and sometimes multi-colored, blinking and stuttering all at once like some kind of spastic alien message. It reminded him of this trash-lord he knew from high school, what was his name— _ Oikawa _ .

Great. First this store tries to strangle him and then it goes and reminds him of high school disasters named Oikawa. 

“I figured you wanted to check out the lights first,” Yachi was saying. “Since you seem like a fan.” At Kei’s blank stare, she continued. “Because...your sweater lights up?”

“This sweater  _ lights _ up?”

Yachi motioned towards a lump under his sweater collar that Kei had been convinced was just a quick-onset tumor and he discovered that the heap of wool and tinsel he was wearing could, in fact, ‘turn on.’ 

At the sudden array of blinking lights spanning across his shoulders, Kei decided that Christmas (a) sucked, and (b) was for Satanists. He rolled his eyes heavenwards and blinked when his glasses caught the glare of fairy lights strung up along the ceiling. Unlike the flashing baubles in the rest of the lighting department, these lights were teensy, spare, almost...whimsical. Glowing a warm gold offset by thrumming red.  _ Nekoma red _ , Kei couldn’t help but notice, suddenly reminded of Kuroo’s old highschool club colors. 

Yachi noticed his interest. “Those are in our Christmas Classics collection, although the red is limited edition!” Sensing Kei’s weakness, Yachi threw in, “If you buy two packs, you can get the third half-off.”

He sighed in defeat. “Guess I’m a Satanist then.”

“Um…”

Kei swiped three boxes of the red-and-gold into his basket. “Alright, Cindy Lou Who, where to next?”

They visited the ornament aisle, cookie dough and candy cane section, a whole corner display on inflatable snowmen and lawn reindeer (“Who has space for all this in Tokyo?” “You’d be surprised what dedicated citizens will manage!”), and then, finally, the gift section. Toys, tech, appliances, books, and clothes. There was even a gift-wrapping station bursting with wrapping paper and huge curlicues of ribbons manned by an extremely angry-looking youth. Yachi dipped into a quick bow, “I’ll leave you to it! Kyoutani here is the on-duty staff member. Say hi, Kyoutani-kun!”

The angry kid with black stripes dyed into his blond hair scowled magnificently and said, dripping sarcasm, “Hi, Kyoutani-kun.” Kei felt his blood pressure raise a tick higher.

_ Christmas is an opportunity _ . Akaashi’s voice tethered him to his sanity.

“I was thinking about getting a present for someone,” Kei managed, tugging at his pom-pom scarf.

The guy, Kyoutani, pursed his lips and said, “Well, when you decide if you are, I’ll be here to wrap it.”

_ This little… _

“I’m  _ getting _ a present for someone,” Kei tried again. He had a sudden urge to squeeze an ornament between his hands until it shattered. “Someone special,” he added, willing his palms to unclench. 

Kyoutani crossed his arms. “Well, where is this special present? I can wrap anything, all for a flat fee.”

Now Kei was at a loss. Here he was, at a gift-wrapping station and he had no idea what to get for Kuroo. “Uh...well. Erm...I don’t know yet. I still need to get it.” At Kyoutani’s overwhelming stare, Kei added, “I don’t really—I mean that, well, I don’t really know what to get this special person.”

Kyoutani raised a brow at him but asked quite patiently, “What does this person like?”

“Uh…” This  _ fucking _ sweater was starting to make him sweat. “Lots of things. Volleyball. Cats. Riling people up.”

The kid was now looking at him like he was crazy. “...Yeah. You can’t wrap those things. Haven’t you ever given someone a Christmas present before?”

Kei tried to choke back an embarrassed cough, and bit back, “I thought you said you could wrap ‘ _ anything _ .’”

Kyoutani looked at him for a few beats longer before tilting his back towards the ceiling with a great sigh, like  _ he _ was the one dealing with someone difficult. “Alright then, volleyball, cats, and riling people up. I’ll see what I can do, Krampus.” Kyoutani disappeared into the back storeroom, yelling over his walkie-talkie for Yachi to come babysit his station.

“Thanks,” Kei said, as he watched Kyoutani grumble to himself but look honestly thoughtful as he muttered ‘volleyball, cats, riling up’ under his breath.  _ Wait. _ Kei blinked. “Krampus?”

“He’s a Christmas legend!” Yachi piped up from behind him. No one wearing bells on their feet should be that good at startling someone. “He’s half-demon, half-goat.”

Okay, so now he wasn’t the Grinch, or the Scrooge, but some sort of weird, demonic Christmas Satyr. Kei mentioned as much, only for Yachi to smile and reply: “Actually, I think you’re a nice little mix of all three.”

“Looking cute and smiling doesn’t make something a compliment,” he snapped. As usual, the girl seemed to ignore all relevant information and focus on the least significant part.

“You think I’m cute?” 

Kei heard a clicking noise in his head that he hoped wasn’t his glasses cracking from pressure-buildup.

“ _ WHERE ARE THE CHRISTMAS TREES? _ ”

“Right this way, Krampus.” 

While Kyoutani was in the back cooking up some sort of ‘perfect gift’ like a particularly surly elf, Kei and Yachi headed towards the biggest section of the Sakanoshita Winter Department: Christmas trees. 

The scent of juniper and cinnamon and pinecones was overwhelming. A veritable forest had taken over. Every available surface was stuffed with trees, some dripping sap and others tipped with fiber-optics that gleamed in a trillion colors. Fake pines and real firs and even strange pink monstrosities that looked like metal traffic cones.

“Aluminum,” Yachi supplied helpfully when Kei rapped his knuckles against one and a somber  _ gong _ rang throughout the store. 

“Gross,” Kei grimaced. “A real Christmas tree should be, like, green and full and smell like sap.”  _ It should look wild _ , he thought, thinking of the unpredictable tufts of Kuroo’s hair. 

“That’s the spirit!” Yachi said. “You have a classic taste in trees. Charlie Brown would be proud.”

“Who?” 

He could tell Yachi was gearing up for another dose of Christmas lore education, but just then, Kei saw it. 

It. The perfect tree. 

Tall and icy, it nonetheless radiated that pure, spicy aroma of a live tree. Its needles were short and dense, giving it a plush look, and boasted a tinge so silvery it looked blue. It jutted proudly against all the other trees around it, standing straight and tall as an arrow, looking like it was pressing away all other inferior trees. It wasn’t even decorated, yet clearly needed no additional ornamentation. Maybe just a touch of something...a handsome tree stand, or a sprig of white flowers, or maybe just a delicate star—

“Again, you have lovely taste,” Yachi said, voice sounding softer. Somehow Kei found himself right in front of the tree, caressing those blue-hued bristles. “That’s a Blue Spruce. Ten feet, one of our tallest.”

“It’s…” Kei rasped.  _ It’s perfect. It’s…lovely. _ “It’s too expensive.”

He wasn’t looking at Yachi but he could practically feel her raised brow in the sound of her shifting foot-bells. “You haven’t even looked at the tag. And everything is priced rather fairly in our humble shop.”

Kei cut a glance at the little blond elf at his side, who was proving to be more mischievous than he’d first expected with her innocent, sugarplum looks. Yachi grinned. Already she had roped him into lights and baubles and  _ five _ packs of gingerbread men. His basket was already weighing down his arm and Kei was worried about how his gift card was going to cover all this holiday cheer. Let alone a whole ass tree.

_ We should decorate a tree together. _

Kuroo’s voice.  _ Tetsurou’s _ voice, warm and soft, raspy with a hint of what Kei now realizes was vulnerability. 

_ We don’t even need to call it a Christmas tree. Yuletide arbor. Ye Olde Pine.  _

That perfect, real smile. That Kei loved.  _ Loved _ .

That Kei ruined. 

But not forever. Kei wouldn’t let it be forever. Tetsurou was worth it, worth everything, the itchy wool, the gaudy tinsel. Worth freezing his toes off at close to midnight on Christmas Eve, dressed like a demented snowman in the middle of a  _ konbini _ filled with Santa’s crazed helpers. And this tree…

This tree was worth it too. 

“ _ Oi _ .” A tinny crackle sounded at Yachi’s hip. “ _ Ask the guy if the person this gift is for is his boyfriend or girlfriend. _ ”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Kei said, vision swimming for a dizzying moment. His voice did  _ not _ crack. He was not crying. 

Yachi translated his response with far more poise and dexterity into the walkie-talkie, before ever-so-gently pressing a hand against the small of Kei’s back.

“I’ll get this wrapped up and delivered to the front of the store, Customer-san,” she spoke as soft and sweet as a spot of molasses. Kei felt the shopping basket that was digging into his arm lifted away from him. “Same with the rest of your items, including the parcels Kyoutani-kun is wrapping up for you now.” Kei could only nod numbly as Yachi began to steer him towards the front of the store. “Now, there’s only one thing left you need for a proper Christmas,” she said, as they approached a tiny on-the-go Cafe counter in the middle of the store. 

A blond, red-nosed youth with crazy, gelled bangs dyed black was manning the counter. He was nearly as tall as Kei, not counting Kei’s antler headband, but seemed to shrink as Yachi approached, the redness of his nose blooming across his cheeks and down his neck.

“Two gingerbread hot chocolates, to-go, Koganegawa-kun!” Yachi beamed. “And I have a bit of a favor to ask you, if you don’t mind,” she added as the kid poured the dark, steaming liquid into two to-go cups. The blond gulped, adding a touch too much whipped cream to one of the cups.

“Of c-course, Yachi-san,” he stammered. Kei suspected that this Koganegawa would tear down the very walls of this store of Yachi had asked him to. His thoughts were only confirmed when Koganegawa steamed a brilliant red when Yachi laughed and said, “How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Hitoka.”

Only Kei seemed to notice how Yachi herself seemed to flush at this admission, hidden by the brightness of her smile. 

“I need you to help our Honorable Customer-san, here,” Yachi continued, grabbing the two steaming cups and thrusting them into Kei’s mittened hands. “He needs help transporting his purchases, including a ten-footer spruce, so it would be lovely if you lent him your strength and your transport-dolley.” 

Kei blinked. “Oi, wait a second—”

“O-of course Yach—Hitoka-chan,” Koganegawa declared, red-nose twitching from the sniffles, already coming around the counter and untying his apron. Oh, good grief. Kei knew that look. She may as well have asked him to undertake a sacred mission. 

“Great! I’ll cover your spot here while you’re gone. Do you mind escorting our customer to the front register?”

“Hold on just a—” Kei started before Koganegawa hooked his hand around Kei’s elbow and practically  _ dragged _ him. This kid was stronger than he looked, and now he had the burning fuel of Christmas Spirit driving him - something Kei was becoming more and more terrified of.

He was whisked away to the front of the store, a pile of already-bagged items waiting for him. There were his lights, the ornaments, the gingerbread men, the stockings. Even his beautiful spruce, wrapped up to within an inch of its life in netting and leaning against the automatic doors of the shop. Even grumpy-looking Kyoutani was there, holding three wrapped presents, each done in brilliant crimson paper trimmed with glittery gold ribbon. And behind the counter, feet kicked up, a wreath of smoke around his face, was Santa.

Or at least, Kei figured, he was  _ meant _ to be Santa. The shearling-trimmed red coat was there, and a bouncy, white beard (though it was clearly fake and hanging around the man’s neck, besides). But the cigarette perched in his fingers - or for that matter, the smirk perched on his young and handsome face - was decidedly un-Santa-like, as was the spectacularly bad dye-job that was his hair. Kei was mildly disturbed at how the man, only a handful of years older than Kei it looked, pulled off the badly bleached blond hair, dark roots strong at his sideburns and temples. 

Kei scowled and yanked his elbow from Koganegawa’s grip, glancing first at Kyoutani and then at the hot Santa— _ ahem _ , the bad dye-job Santa. “Why is everyone at this crazy store so  _ blond _ ?”

Dye-job Santa blinked at him, tapping his cigarette against an ash tray. “Pardon me, good sir, but you are also blond.”

_ Oh...Right. _

“And we affectionately refer to this ‘crazy store’ here as Sakanoshita. Or at least my mom does. Dad’s still petitioning to name it the Ukai- Shōten, but if you ask me, that’s just asking for trouble,” the dye-job Santa said, finishing with a wink. “Now, our bright, young Yachi has informed me that you’re in a bit of a Christmas pinch, is that right?”

Kei snapped his eyes to the wall clock behind the counter, suddenly sweating underneath his blinking sweater and pom-pom scarf. “Am I too late? How long was I here for?”

_ 12:15 _ .

Past midnight.

Kei’s heart stopped, “I missed it. I missed Christmas.”

Blond Santa frowned. “Now there, it looks like you’ve got Christmas all ready to go right here. You’ve got your stockings, your lights, your presents. I wouldn’t despair just yet. Even young Rudolph here is transporting all this precious cargo, isn’t he?” He gestured to the red-nosed, snuffling Koganegawa. “All that’s left is payment, and I got a call not too long ago by a concerned young man—”  _ Akaashi, _ Kei thought. “—who informed me that you had a gift card.”

Kei numbly removed the card from his wallet, “I can’t see how it would be enough—” If Kei sprinted, he’d maybe make it back to the apartment by 12:30. He’d just need to put four bags on each arm, tie the tree by its trunk to his waist, but wait, how would he carry the presents…? Damn it, the tree was going to be too heavy. His heart fell even further when he saw he might not even be able to get the tree. As the store owner rang up each of his items, he saw that the gift card - generous as it was - was going to fall just short of the tree. And it was a magnificent tree. Probably cost the same as all of his other items combined. 

How was he supposed to explain to Kuroo that not only had he missed midnight with him as Christmas Eve turned to Christmas, but he didn’t even have a tree to show for it? Honestly, how was he supposed to explain any of his coal-hearted Scrooge actions to Kuroo at all?

Just as Kei felt the humiliating press of tears against the back of his eyes again, Kyoutani cleared his throat and shoved the three presents into Kei’s hands.

“These are your gifts. For your boyfriend. The first gifts you ever give are always free.” Kyoutani’s scowl couldn’t quite hide the color in his cheeks, pinked in embarrassment. “Christmas tradition,” he explained. Kei wasn’t really in any place to say what was Christmas tradition or not, but he was pretty sure a charity on this scale was overkill.

“I couldn’t—”

“And Yachi buzzed me a bit ago to apologize about the sorry state of the tree you had to settle on,” dye-job Santa continued. “We at the Sakanoshita are truly embarrassed that you were forced to pick such a spindly, sickly tree,” he said. Kei swiveled slowly to his spruce, leaning against the doorway. Its trunk was bending against its own great weight, full, healthy branches straining against the netting. “We couldn’t possibly ask you to pay for such a reprehensible tree. In fact, you’d be doing us a favor, taking it off our hands.”

“Ukai-san,” Kyoutani prodded quietly.

“Ah! Yes!” The blond Santa, Ukai, fished something out from under the counter - a sprig of plants or something, tied together - and leaned towards Kei. Someone who smoked so frequently had no right to smell like apple leather and cinnamon. Kei was so distracted by this handsome guy dressed as goddamn  _ Santa Claus _ leaning towards him, that he didn’t even notice Ukai was stringing the bundle of plants around one of Kei’s antlers. 

“There, you’re set. Rudolph!” Ukai gestured to Koganegawa who snapped to attention. “The tree!”

Kei found himself looking around at all of them: the surly Kyoutani like an angry, one-man gift and toy workshop; Koganegawa standing there with his red nose, looking like he was ready to swing a ten-foot  _ tree _ over one shoulder and into the night; all on behalf of the mischievous Yachi, still somewhere in the back of the store, an elf disguised as a cherub and missing only her pointy ears; and then there was Ukai, this strange shop owner dressed like a mall Santa Claus, smirking around his cigarette. 

“A miracle…” Kei whispered, under his breath. “This piss-poor excuse for a holiday really is a miracle.”

“Better get going,” Ukai said, glancing towards the wall clock.  _ 12:25.  _ Oh shit. Kei swept the presents up in his arms, snagging every shopping bag along the way. Koganegawa had already rigged his spruce to a transport-dolley.

“Thank you,” Kei managed, breathless, standing before the automatic doors to the Sakanoshita as the frosty air nipped at his nose. He glanced back at them, these insane people, his helpers, his saviors. 

“ _ Merry Christmas!” _ Yachi’s sugarplum voice sounded over the intercom. Kyoutani ducked his face away, trying to twist a smile into a scowl. 

Dye-job Santa Ukai winked at him from over the counter. “Ho, ho, ho.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC in Part 3!
> 
> Ahahaha *laughs nervously* when I said I'd post Part 2 "soon," I swear I didn't mean exactly a year later. I also didn't mean for this story to morph into three chapters, but I just had so much fun with everyone at the Sakanoshita. I'd promise that Part 3 will be out sooner than this second part, but who knows at this point. 
> 
> Stay tuned for Part 3 and the definite conclusion to You're a Mean One, Tsukishima. Please ~please~ leave a comment if you enjoyed. 
> 
> Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> TBC in pt. 2. Merry Christmas, everyone! Please let me know what you think of this first part, and have the happiest of holidays <3


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